


Short and Sweet

by GrrHatLet



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alcohol, M/M, Suggestive Themes, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-11
Updated: 2017-02-11
Packaged: 2018-09-23 14:05:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9660476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrrHatLet/pseuds/GrrHatLet
Summary: Albus stumbling upon Gryffindor-fueled debauchery, and getting more than he bargained for.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Request by Fingeronthepulseofmysoul: _“I made my roommate a really realistic dick cake, and you’re the floor RA who’s both super cute and super conservative, and you just walked in on us worshipping it, so, hey. Want a slice? It’s red velvet."_
> 
> Tweaked to fit a magical universe.

 

A trail of light flickered at the end of the hallway and a faint smile drew to Albus’ lips.

In fact, a whole amalgamation of colors was practically dancing in a patch of the corridor, and one might think music would accompany this entrancing display—but the halls were otherwise silent. Albus fondly rolled his eyes; at least they’d taken _some_ measures to cover their tracks.

Not that he couldn’t sympathize—even envy the merry-making so rarely possible for him—but the numbers could do with a bit of thinning out.

Hmm, a gargoyle had been displaced at the mouth of their gettogether. Interesting, very interesting. He casually showed himself in—and, sure enough, the music found its thunderous voice once he passed through.

It appeared to be consummated by Gryffindors (though bits of other houses floated about the crowd), and it seemed there was a buzz around an unusually long table sat against the opposite wall. A collection of boys—all Gryffindors—seemed to be congratulating each other. They stood in front of it carefully and waved over anyone who walked by. A couple approached from the massive crowd and took one glance at the something behind them. The boy snorted into his drink and the giggling girl buried her face in her hands. The twosome declined and fluidly merged back into the party.

Albus arched a brow: what could they be offering so generously? Spirits?  Not an outrageous guess: everything from ill-shaped glasses to enlarged thimbles were housing their limit of the substance. But as the youngest in attendance were 5th years, this called for intervention. Alcohol consumption on school grounds was tolerated to a point by students of-age, but underage possession could cost someone dearly. And condoning it could strip anyone—teacher, prefect, Head Boy—of their position in a heartbeat.

He approached the table. “Lovely evening.”

The boys turned to him and reeled back instantly. Some traded furtive glances. Others simply watched warily. A few in back seemed to be trying to contain themselves.

Albus lilted his head. “Quite a set up you have here. Especially the spectacle lying in wait there.”

This resulted in further glances, as the group divided their attention between him and the precious possession hidden from view.

Albus was blunt. “Would you mind stepping aside, or shall I inform each Head _why_ 50 points went amiss from their House overnight?”

Every boy began to protest, plea, or bargain. A few backed out of his way, but an equal number remained footed.

 One, however, stepped _forward_ , and shot him a grin. “Good to see you, Albus Dumbledore. It certainly wasn’t expected that you would borrow time to find us here.”

 Albus arched a brow again. “Indeed, Mr. Grindelwald. The guise arranged would have been most impressive—had you not forgotten the simplest of Concealment spells.”

Grindelwald’s brow scaled his forehead, before he crossly turned back at another 5th-year. “ _Müller!_ _Du solltest doch einen Unsichtbarkeitszauber einsetzen, nachdem wir den Schweigezauber angewandt haben!"_

The young man shrank back helplessly. _"Ich dachte du hättest mit Zedler gesprochen!”_

One slouching Hufflepuff, with a thimble in hand, mimed his fingers open and shut. “Blah, blah, blah…”

“Fuck you!” Müller spat in perfect English.

Albus straightened himself upright. “5 points from Gryffindor for vulgarity.”

The rest in attendance _immediately_ grew uneasy. Müller stood in silent shock, and the aforementioned Hufflepuff swayed suspiciously against an armchair.

Grindelwald drew the spotlight on himself. “What is the harm in permitting everyone’s fun? We can handle ourselves like adults.”

Albus cocked a brow again. “Would this include the legal-aged wizards permitting their _underage_ classmen’s intoxication?”

The crowd guiltily looked down at the drinks in hand, those of less-than-legal drinking age hiding theirs behind their backs rather foolishly.

Grindelwald relaxed. Albus saw him take his wand in hand, and with one wave the underage students were dry. This might have sparked resistance under different circumstances, but with the threat of expulsion hanging over their heads, not to mention any certain professors or parents who could be notified…

He didn’t neglect the younger boy’s companions throwing him glances, which were hastily waved off.

He took his arm. “We can discuss this with the Headmaster, yes?”

Albus’ brow reached his hairline. “I suppose so…”

This erupted in strangled panic, but Grindelwald was surprisingly calm as he led them toward the gargoyle.

All failed to take heed of _another_ subtle wave just as they departed.  
  


* * *

   
“Turning yourself in? That is rather unexpected of you, Mr. Grindelwald.”

The young man cocked a brow. “Why do you never call others by their first name—except for that spotty one…what is he called? …Orpheus?”

“ _Elphias_ happens to be a close friend of mine—and were you around in our first year you would understand why the level of formalities are exempt to him.”

The boy nodded thoughtfully. “Ah…you do not share your parents’ temperament against Muggles?”

Albus grew stiff. “…My family does not _bear_ a temperament against Muggles.” He spoke inarguably.

Grindelwald regarded him. “It was not meant in offense—my own parents told me of many wrongdoings by-“

“How did you plan to defend your case against the Headmaster, Mr. Grindelwald?”

The boy looked up. “Gellert.”

“How did you plan to defend your case, _Gellert_?”

The boy tugged his elbow as they kept walking. “Why did you not stay awhile? Are Head Boys prohibited from enjoying themselves?”

The obvious change of subject was not lost on Albus—nevertheless…

“Certainly not. But our ideas of enjoyment seem to differ greatly in practice.”

“You do not drink?”

Albus sighed. “Gr…Gellert, your attempts at distraction are patronizing at best, please do not assume I withhold the intelligence of your companions around the table.”

Gellert grinned. “Your intelligence does not go unnoticed—you are, after all, one of the youngest to have garnered so many awards in Hogwarts history. The students admire you, the staff applaud you, and were it not for your evident lack of personal time it might be tempting to best you in your tracks.”

“Really?” Was that dryness or intrigue?

Gellert shot him a knowing look. “Bridget Wenlock, witch who first established the magical properties of seven: you brought her up several times in a thesis written for an Arithmancy specialist.”

Albus gave him a look of surprise.

Gellert went on. “It was an insightful concept—but disappointing that you did not weave Cliodna’s discoveries of Moondew into the publication. The two combined have potential to unlock new elements behind the usage of healing potions for wizards investigating time-travel.”

Albus faltered in his step, but his companion didn’t seem to notice.

“My aunt even went so far as to express disappointment that you have written nothing on preventing impending rebellion from House Elves. She is one of the first to read when you voice input on granting rights.”

“I’m sorry?”

Gellert sent him a grin. “She is rather fervent when it comes to history. You would know: she’s written at least one textbook used by Hogwarts.”

Now Albus was dumbfounded. “Surely not.”

Gellert appeared puzzled.

“Your aunt—the woman you’re speaking of—can’t be…"

"Can't be…"

" …Bathilda Bagshot?”

He smirked. “ _Great-_ aunt. Though she doesn’t like anyone to call her that.”

“That woman is our neighbor.”

Now it was Gellert’s turn to appear stunned. _“Unmöglich.”_

 _“Gut möglich.”_ Albus replied.

A faint smile grew on his face. “You speak German?”

“Among others.” He found himself smiling as well…before remembering himself. Taking Gellert’s arm—unopposed—he guided them down the corridor.

He looked at him sorrowfully. “What is a gifted mind such as yours doing at a congregation of alcohol abuse, unadulterated activities, and blatant disrespect?”

Gellert looked up, and replied honestly: “Having fun.”

They rounded the corner, and Albus balked at the sight of the gargoyle ahead.

“…We have returned to the point of origin.”

“So we have.” Another grin.

Albus shot him a mildly disapproving look; the grip on his elbow was now taken into account.

Gellert merely nodded ahead. “Shall we go in?”

Albus’ mouth drew into a far-from-amused line.  
  


* * *

  
A Hufflepuff spewed his drink and collapsed into coughing hilarity.

One girl hid her face in her hands.

A boy snickered to a sputtering Ravenclaw.

And Albus noted the intriguing cake—some sections already devoured—with an unreadable face. It was a chocolate-flavored dessert…in the shape of the male reproductive organ.

Realistic as it was, he couldn’t see the appeal in such a creation (at least, not in cake form).

His gaze lifted. “And whose choice of catering, may I inquire, is this?”

There was an awkward shuffling of timid feet and dodgy eyes.

Gellert smiled. “Want a bite?”  
  


* * *

   
**Translations:**

“ _Müller!_ _Du solltest doch einen Unsichtbarkeitszauber einsetzen, nachdem wir den Schweigezauber angewandt haben!"_ Muller! You were supposed to cast a Notice-Me-Not after we placed the Silencing Charm!

 _"Ich dachte du hättest mit Zedler gesprochen!”_ I thought you were talking to Zelder!


End file.
